Retired
by indecisiveweaver
Summary: Perhaps, after all that happened, I really can retire. post GM Taylor just wants a normal life, and free now from ever gaining powers again, perhaps she can have that.
1. Introduction

_"No Parahuman healing under any circumstances"_

I checked that box immediately. As soon as I knew it was an option, I took it.

I was done. Retired. I was not going back into the hero business, or the villain business, ever again.

The card came in with my refugee ID. It was distinct. Made to be easily identified when a first responder tried to ID a victim. I kept it on my person at all times.

At the end of the first year, My dad and I gained citizenship after the United Nations passed a law that all Gold Morning refugees would be granted citizenship from their country of origin, regardless of what version of earth they came from, if they so chose.

We chose.

After that, I got a bracelet detailing my refugee status and my refusal of Parahuman healing. They weren't compulsory, nor were they distinguishable from medical tags worn by diabetics or epileptic.

It was 18 months later that I read an article on the subject of DNR, and how people had gotten tattoos tattoos so they didn't have to rely on family members not following their wishes. It detailed how in the past few years, with more Parahumans popping up with powers that had healing capabilities.

I got one, asking for it from my father on my 21st birthday.

As far as the media had shown, no one really knew much about powers, beyond the academic papers people had written on bet, which had been shared with all known universes since the blight of Gold Morning. Although the only connection with this university was through a multidimensional wired internet link set up and directly monitored by Dragon. I tried once to reach out to her, but in the middle of typing a message, I received one from her

_"Dear Ms. Hebert,_

_In effort to keep the possible survival of the classified class S threat known as Khepri a secret, and keep you yourself from having Parahumans attempt to breach this world and make attempts on your life, I suggest you not try to contact me, and let me retain some plausible deniability, in case I am ever questioned on your existence and whereabouts. I am happy to see Danny and Taylor Hebert living well, whether or not you were once residents of a different earth."_

So most people thought I was dead, and my powers were basically gone. I could sometimes feel bugs in the walls or grass, but I couldn't move them, or see, feel, or hear through them. I had, after the second or third time, decided it was more likely a ghost limb than a return of my power.

I could retire in peace, have real friends, live a normal life, and do the mundane human things I wasn't lucky enough to be able to in my late adolescence.

I was late to start college, with the months I spent in and out of the hospital, and all the bureaucratic nonsense of becoming a registered person in this earth.

So now, today, I was starting my first day at Washington University, far from any of my old homes on bet, in the unsuspecting city of St Louis Missouri.

I had moved into my dorm on the first available day, my spartan lifestyle barely taking up half of my available space. The only sentimental pieces I had brought were three photographs in frames on my desk and a small wolf plushie sitting atop my monochrome bedspread.

I spent the last week establishing a routine, setting up my various routes for my morning runs, finding where all my classes were on the campus, applying for various part time jobs in the area, despite my father telling me we had no need for money, and timing the walks and runs between certain buildings.

I did not miss having to wear bodysuits daily.

My roommate didn't move in until the day before classes started, and I came home late from the library to find her already asleep, her side of the room almost overflowing with decorations, although they all seemed very classy. A soft glow of Christmas lights surrounded her bed and the ceiling above it. Pictures were lined neatly on a corkboard, spread out over the entirety of it with ample space to fill in with more images. Books were lined up neatly on all but one shelf above her desk. In that outlier shelf was the only thing that seemed kidlike. It was a picture of her, probably younger than she was now, standing next to one of the well known heroes of this earth, an Alexandria type that had called herself Golden Eagle.

When I came back after getting ready for bed, the lights had gone out, apparently on some sort of timer.

I woke up before she did, going on my run before coming back to get ready for class, and by that time, she had already left.

I hadn't really minded not speaking to her yet, since we hadn't been here long, and I doubted that our silence would persist, but it had apparently affected her, because I found a note on my laptop, on colorful stationary with meticulous handwriting

_Hi Taylor! Sorry we keep missing each other. I hope we can meet soon, maybe for dinner tonight?_

_Your roommate (and hopefully future bestie),_

_Sarah._

I already knew she and I weren't going to mix too well, as far as friends went. She wrote too much like how imagined Emma would write, but she clearly was much more kind, and I had no apprehension in rooming with her. She seemed organized and polite, which was to me, a perfect combination.

With that, I pulled on my backpack and headed to my first class.


	2. Part One: Chapter One: Her

If I had to describe my first day of classes, I'd call it uneventful. I made it through the day taking even less time than I had expected to get to my classes and spending the lunch break I had planned eating a pre-prepared Italian sub in the library while I worked on my already assigned homework, finishing it before I had finished my sandwich.

I almost hoped that my classes would get harder as the months progressed.

I hadn't made any friends quite yet, not wanting to throw myself headfirst into the fray, so to speak. I hadn't really practiced speaking to people or making friends, and because of my past, I didn't have a lot of experience. I couldn't say I was surprised, but no one spoke to me today. When I was younger, before everything, when I was just a girl in high school, I might have thought it was because I was ugly. Now I knew a bit better. It had nothing to do with me, everyone else was busy, in their own little world, trying to navigate their first day of the semester, and for many, their first day in college classes.

That wasn't to say my looks had changed. I didn't really grow at all in the years since gold morning, not that I expected to. I still had a mouth with lips too wide for my slender face. When I was recovering in the hospital, with gaunt features, it was close to creepy when I smiled, now, I appreciated the disarming and jovial features.

I'd come to terms with the fact I'd never be gorgeous like other girls, but had adopted my features and reclassified them. My figure, the same shape, was not thin and unfeminine, now it was lithe, lean, and graceful, like the runner I was. I hadn't told my therapist about all I had done, but she helped me work through the regular people problems I had been faced with.

Which is how I was certain people ignored me simply because they were nervous and busy, and I was unassuming. I had already found a few people I thought I might get along with, although I wasn't going to make any moves towards speaking to them until the end of the first week at least.

For today, I was just ready to go to my room, shower, and read. It was only around 5 pm, but I was already ready to call it a night, with the hot August air sticking to me, covering me in a film of residual heat.

When I had my bugs, summer was my favorite time. It was when I was strongest, after all, and the stronger I was the more people I could help, or hurt. Now I hated it. I would much rather be covered in my bugs than spend another day in humid hell.

I entered my dorm, the cool air conditioning wrapping around me like a wave, and I reveled in it, climbing the stairs to the floor my room was on two at a time.

I unlocked the door, expecting to find Sarah already back, but I didn't hear her call out. I was unsure if she'd made it back yet until I past through the hall that held our bathroom to grab clothes. When I walked into our living quarters I saw her sitting there with headphones on her head, bobbing along to the music slightly as she read what I only could assume was a textbook. I didn't want to disturb her so I just kept going, but this was the first time I had actually seen my roommate, although only from the back. From when I could tell she was the type of person to get out a lot, with sun-bleached red hair in a high ponytail, pencil thin, streaking down her back. Not wanting to disturb her I just slipped silently past her, grabbing some lounging clothes out of my drawers before returning to the bathroom.

During my time is the warlord of Brockton Bay, I had to take many cold showers, and being the "super villain" at heart that I was, I found I honestly enjoyed them. They helped me remember that I was full of warm blood, pumping life through my body. That I was real and alive. I started taking a lot after gold morning to remember that even though I chose to die Contessa let me live, and I had a new lease on life. The cold showers were especially blessed in times like the August haze I had to swim through today. The water chilled me to my bone for the first time it felt like eons and I loved every second of it as it whisked away the humidity from the trek across campus and refreshed me, filling me with energy that I had not felt even just moments before.

I stepped out the shower, wrapping my hair in a towel and pulling a second around me to wipe off the chilled water still clinging to my flesh. I changed into my clothes, having chosen a pair of running shorts and a tank top before getting in, only to realize that since my shower I was much cooler than I had felt before getting in. I wrapped myself in that towel hoping to gain a bit of warmth before walking back to my bed to grab a blanket.

I wasn't prepared for what was waiting for me when I walked through the door that separated small hall with our bathroom and shower from the room we shared together. Sarah had since realized I had come home and in her excitement after hearing the shower stop she was practically bouncing on her heels waiting for me to walk in. I had been somewhat prepared for that, but not for the face that stared back at me. red hair rather than yellow and many many more freckles spotting her skin, but those green eyes I had known and loved were the same. As was, and it was even more so with such stark red hair, that knowing vulpine grin.

**AN**: I'm not really known for my long chapters, but I suspect this story will at least be long by number of chapters.

I hope enjoy

I'll probably post a chapter or so a day depending on how work goes.

The suggested songs for part one, aka the songs I feel fit it most would be Everything Stays and 100 Bad Days

follow me on tumblr/reddit using this username, and on instagram @turner.around

my worm blog on tumblr is impdidnothingwrong

see you soon!


	3. Part One Chapter Two: Pizza

She stared back at me expectantly but I didn't hear any of the words that came out of her mouth. She probably said something like, "Nice to meet you," or "How was your day?" but I couldn't move.

She was different, so different. You could tell that was a different charm behind her eyes, more naïve, less war-torn, and she was nowhere near as tired, but that smile and the way she looked at me, like she wanted to save me and needed me to save her all at the same time.

I didn't notice for a moment but I had been holding my breath. I let sigh out, a long exhale, and placed as my friendly smile I could on my face hoping she didn't notice my reaction, knowing she couldn't possibly have known what she would have known.

"I'm sorry. I must have some water in my ears. I didn't catch that."

"It's no problem. I'm Sarah Livsey! and you must be Taylor. Taylor?"

"Taylor Hebert."

Great to meet you!" she held out her left hand unexpectedly and I shook it. I think she must've noticed my missing appendage and adjusted accordingly "great to finally meet you, I was wondering if we would actually cross paths all semester" she chuckled.

"Yeah sorry. I typically start my days off pretty early with a run."

" I figured' I start my days off early too, but not so quite as early. I just wanted to get to class on time, and I figured I wouldn't sleep in too much if I started all my days at 8 AM."

" well that's one way to be responsible." I responded, only half listening. Though I was intrigued by the similarities between the person standing in front of me, and my friend from years before, I was still wary. I knew that I was rarely given such an opportunity to be happy, without some sort of catch, and though I had been retired for almost three years now, I had yet to shake the habit of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She kept going. "yeah my mom instilled in me from a young age that if you want to be successful you have to first act like you're already successful and she kind of beat that into me as a child not like beat beat just like she made sure I knew it you know." She trailed off, eyeing me, as she noticed I was still standing their wearing my damp towel as a cloak. "Are you alright? Did I startle you? I know I can be a handful talking sometimes, but you look kind of like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh I'm ok, just chilly is all," I said as I moved, hanging up my towel and wrapping myself in my blanket. "So, tell me a little about yourself, Sarah?" I hoped I could keep the conversation off me, just as much as I wanted to understand what this world's version of her was like.

"Well, I'm 18, turning 19 in late November. I'm a freshman, undecided, and I can't wait to see what this year has in store!" She looked at me sheepishly. "I'm, uh, a little surprised you didn't recognize me. Not that it wasn't nice to not immediately be associated with my father."

Livsey. I hadn't done much research into the family behind the company, but I knew a lot about the man and his products. What started 10 years ago as an ordinary medical equipment company, soon after Gold Morning turned into a mass-production of tinkerteck level prosthetics, with Adam Livsey claiming patents left and right. I had assumed he had triggered, and could guess the circumstances. "Oh, I hadn't thought about him."

"Really?" She asked, eyeing me somewhat suspiciously. "Not to be rude but I'd think with your arm situation you'd know all about him"

"I did research him, but knowing he's a cape, I wanted to respect his family's privacy." I replied. She looked startled for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"Ah, well, anyways, have you eaten? I thought we might order a pizza and talk about ourselves."

I was still quite nervous, and new that there were quite a few questions she probably had that I knew I couldn't answer right now, but I couldn't find an inconspicuous reason not to agree, and my stomach betrayed me before I even answered.

She giggled at the sound and answered for me "I guess that's a yes then. I'll go ahead and order it."

The rest of the conversation was, for the most part, uneventful. Most of the questions were easy to graze through, and even be honest about. Hobbies, major, year, favorite color, number of siblings, parents, whatnot and so forth. The only tense moment was when I received the question "where are you from?" This earth had never had a Brockton Bay, and I had never been allowed out in Chicago on my own.

"I'm from Earth Bet."

The more I spoke with my new roommate, the more I knew she could never have been Tattletale. But it was cemented by the look horror on her face. She clammed up, the room quiet for what felt like hours. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft, but vert certain voice. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

We finished our dinner and went about our evening separately in silence, neither of us reigniting the conversation. It wasn't until I thought she was asleep that she actually spoke. She faced the other wall, and the words were spoken softly, but there was a firmness, a certainty behind them "I know I can't empathize with you, but I probably would understand more than most, so if you ever want to talk"

She left the words hanging in the air, and I knew sometime soon, I'd have to ask her what she meant.


	4. Part One: Chapter Three: Party

The rest of the week was uneventful. No weird or awkward conversations, and I had yet to meet any other counterparts from my time before retirement, which I couldn't say I was particularly sad about. I tried not to think about the times on other earth's, and the reason I was gifted this retirement to begin with.

But just because I was enjoying the munatany of a sense of normalcy I had missed all those years, didn't mean I had prepared for all the things college entailed, specifically, the question Sarah asked me as I walked through the door after class on Friday.

"Will you come to a party with me?"

"A what now?" did I hear her right? A party? Me? Of course I knew I heard her right, but that didn't make it any more surprising. What did she want me at a party for? I certainly didn't look the part.

"A party! I know it probably isn't your ideal friday night, but I was invited by some upperclassmen, and I want to go to try and make friends and stuff, but, you know"

"It's dangerous to go to parties alone, especially when you are invited by strangers." My voice took the tone of a parent, and i gave her a stern glare. I already knew why she asked me, but i wanted to reinforce how bad of an idea this was.

"I know, that is why I wanted to know if you'd come with me?" she looked at me hopeful, with eyes I would have probably regarded as puppy-dog in nature, if it weren't for her other fox-like creatures.

If i trusted that she wouldn't go alone, or could find someone else she trusted to go with, I probably would say no. The fact of the matter was, she was here in front of me now, asking me to a party she obviously knew I wouldn't want to go to, so she had either already asked anyone else she trusted, or didn't have anyone else she trusted. Either way, whether she knew it or not, she had me backed into a corner.

"Sure, I'll come, but only if you promise me something."

"Are you going to ask me not to drink? I know I'm only 18, but this is college. Sure statistically speaking less people binge drink than each person thinks statistically binge drink, but almost nobody actually waits until they're 21. I certainly didn't."

I sighed. I wasn't going to be able to keep her sober there whether I wanted to or not, but I could still maintain control in this situation. "No, I'm not gonna ask you not to drink. I wouldn't expect anyone to be able to remain sober there," or want to be, I added to myself. "Just promise me no drugs, not even weed. I know you are an autonomous adult and can make your own decisions, but I would feel better to know that the only person I will know at this party will not be mixing substances."

"I can do that. No drugs, and you promise you'll come?"

"I don't really think I have a choice"

What happened next was eerily familiar. Sarah took out pieces from her bottom drawer, before handing them to me. I put them on without complaint, knowing better than to argue. Soon I was clad in a black bandeau under a white sheer top, and black shorts. It wasn't much, and I knew I wore less on runs, but that wasn't for the express purpose of being seen. And it wasn't the amount of skin showing that made me uncomfortable, it was precisely where it was showing skin. When i was on my runs, it didn't matter who saw my tattoo. If they could read it while I moved, and could identify me through the light of dawn, they probably deserved to know that much about me, but this party was specifically so people could meet others at the beginning of the year, and even if they couldn't read it through my shirt, they would certainly ask about it, just like Sarah did.

"Hey, you have a tattoo? What is it?"

"Oh, it is just something in case of emergency. It's a medical thing."

"Oh, ok." I was so thankful. There was a reason I felt that she knew better than to ask, but for probably similar reasons I knew better than to pry.

We continued our preparation, with little protest on my part as Sarah did my makeup. It always felt funny on my face, and I never could quite get the hang of it. It wasn't like I didn't own any makeup, or never did it myself, but with the loss of my dominant arm it became a difficult challenge, and a hard habit to develop, since i hadn't in high school, spending most of my days with a face under a mask.

It felt kinda silly, dressing up for something I didn't want to go to in the first place, but even with how fucked up my late adolecence and early adulthood had been, there was still alive in me a girl who could get excited in being all dolled up and pretty, and I did look pretty damn good.

Although I was easily overlooked when next to Sarah, but that was irrelevant. Plus if I wanted to keep my roommate totally safe at this party, I needed to remain unassuming.

"So what kind of party is this?" I asked, making some conversation, and trying to get my bearings on the situation. Bank heist, criminal capture, or college party, having a clear description of the circumstances helps tremendously with ensuring the safety of all involved.

"Oh, its supposed to be a house party, so it might be crowded, but there probably won't be a ton of people there. It isn't a frat party, if that's what you were wondering. These guys said it was a tradition they picked up from their older friends back when they were freshmen, and they like to invite as many people in their classes as they can, knowing that a lot of people will refuse, not wanting to start the year off with a party, which is exactly why they do it, so they can have a super big party before workload starts getting too heavy, that way nobody gets super behind by missing a whole two days of study time."

"They told you all this?"

"They kinda gave a pitch to my whole table in intro to theatre."

"I see." we sat in silence a minute, before I checked my phone. I didn't expect any messages, though I did have a few replies on a post I made earlier in the week on PHO, and was more just checking the time. "It's about half past 7, when and where is this?"

She took a moment, looking up directions in her phone. "It's about a 10 minute walk from here. Do you want to get an uber there or-"

"We can walk there. We probably will need a ride home, but there isn't any use getting one there. We both can walk just fine."

"Alright, well they told me 8, but we probably don't have to be exactly on time."

We left soon after. A rumble in Sarah's stomach deciding that we should invest in some food beforehand, as none had been promised at the event. It was closer to 9 than it was to 8 by the time we arrived (although not by much). They had obviously planned for a party, with quite a few chairs on the lawn, and a few coolers. The music was audible from the front yard, but not so much that I thought it would be a physical force in the house. It didn't seem to be a dance pop song, more something just to put everyone in a good mood.

"Alright, first we should probably say hi to the hosts before going to get drinks. I know this is a house party but my mom used to say that etiquette is what separates us from beasts, and plus I should probably introduce you to the people who invited me." She dragged me by my hand. Through the small crowd on the front porch. Once inside, we took a scope of the layout, Sarah, trying to find her classmates, and me, looking at all viable exits. I felt a tug in my head, almost like a feeling someone was looking at me, and I whirled my head in the direction of the couches, the feeling growing ever stronger until I looked directly towards it. As my eyes feel on the spot I thought the source came from, Sarah started pulling me towards the same couches. The location of the feeling in my head was a mop of red hair. The second my eyes landed on him, his head shot up, and he looked me straight in the eye. He looked strangely familiar, but I wasn't given very much time to process that point.

"Hi Steven! I brought my roommate. I hope that's ok!" Sarah greeted one of the people lounging on the couch.

From who responded, I could guess the redhead wasn't Steven. A brunette stood up to shake my hand, "Hi, I'm Steven! Thanks for coming." He had a goofy grin on his face and soft brown eyes. He looked kind and warm, the kind of person that people like to be around, which is why I felt so bad, just staring at his hand.

"Umm, hi, I'm Taylor," I stuck out my left hand, waving with my right arm to show why I couldn't shake with it.

He didn't skip a beat, reaching out with his left, before chuckling nervously. "Wow, whoops. Didn't mean to put you on the spot there Tay."

"Hey, where's Daniel?" Sarah cut in, saving me from the awkwardness of everyone realising at once that I was an amputee, not that I was ashamed with it, but most everyone got awkward around amputees, and I was hoping to go farther into the evening before having that much attention directed at me.

"He went out to get ice for the jungle juice. He forgot to grab some last night, and our ice maker can only work so fast you know. No one wants hot jungle juice." He pointed out a giant bowl of a punch, which I was wary of, but I spent years staying alive trusting my instincts, and my instincts told me that if anyone was going to ambush us at a party, they wouldn't start at 9 with the already super potent alcoholic abomination that all party-goers were probably going to partake in at one point or another "Speaking of which, do you want some?

As I was about to decline, Sarah squeezed my arm and spoke over me, "We'd both like a cup, thanks." and whispered, leaning in "Trust me ok, it'll be fine. We have each other."

"Ah, yeah."

As he walked to the kitchen, getting two cups out of one of ten bags of plastic cups, he spoke back "Dennis introduce yourself."

The redhead faked a scowl at Steven, before he turned to us. "Hi, I'm Dennis, the third roommate and the reason they can even have this party." he increased his volume for the second half of his statement, pointedly aiming the statement towards Steven, rather than us.

Steven gave us both cups, and Sarah began drinking from it almost immediately. I was much more hesitant. My first sip revealed it tasted like liking the orange juice off my fingers after using hand sanitizer, but after a few gulps a soft warmth began to fill me, and my limbs felt slower, not quite like being underwater, but as if they suddenly became twice as heavy. At some point Sarah grabbed my cup and refilled it, as the conversation moved forward. People told stories of crazy professors, funny moments, and near death experiences, of the latter no one seemed to have more than one. I made the decision at the beginning of the first story not to tell any of mine. There were too many to choose one, anyways.

The room filled with more people, and held a steady flow, between the drinks and the backyard. I was about halfway done with my third cup when I felt a pressure. I knew I had hit a breaking point. "Uh, is there anywhere I can go to pee?" I cursed my drunk mouth for such awkwardness.

Dennis jumped up, "follow me, I'll show you."

He led me down some stairs and through a bedroom. When I came back out he was still there, just sitting on the bed, his chin resting on his hand as he stared off into space

I didn't have the best control of the words in my mouth. "Hey do I know you from somewhere. Like are you in one of my classes or something?"

"I doubt it, since I'm a graduate student and you're a freshman." He looked at me thoughtfully.

"Are you sure? Because you look really familiar" I blushed, realising how dumb I sounded. "Sorry, I don't really have any experience with alcohol."

"Really? Well that's not uncommon with freshmen. Eighteen year old's can't exactly purchase it after all"

"I'm 21"

"No kidding." He paused for a moment again. "Then why are you a freshman?"

"It's a- it's a long story"

"I see" he looked off into space again, to which I took as an invitation to leave and join Sarah back upstairs. I was only halfway across the room before he called out, "Can I ask you a question?"

I froze, readying myself for a fight.

"Are you a Cape?"

It felt like the wind knocked out of me, but all the same I was aware of each breath that passed. I had to play dumb.

"What's a Cape?" Ok not that dumb. "I'm just joking, but really why would you ask that?" And why would you expect me to answer?

"I don't know. I just kinda, felt it, like when you walked into the room I knew I…"

"So you're a Parahuman?" I asked. It was obvious. Why else would he care or know to ask?

"I - uh… yeah. But I don't have my licence yet."

Parahuman licences. Something different from Bet. Rather than have organizations, or at least until they set them up, Parahumans could apply for a licence to practice their power In their day to day life, so they can be monitored for abuse of power, like medical or private investigator licence. It seemed to me like a subtle way to keep a list of all known Parahumans and Parahuman abilities, but that seemed to be a good exchange for lessened Parahuman crime.

"Well, I'm not a Parahuman, no." I started up the stairs before turning back around. "But I did know quite a few, so if you ever need to talk."

"Uh yeah, actually can I get your number?"

"Yeah."

The rest of the party was boring compared, maybe because I stopped drinking after that. Sarah wasn't ready to go, but we had stayed for long enough that she seemed satisfied to leave when I told her I was ready to. With that we started our ride home.


	5. part one volume four: start

The door shut with a satisfying thud. Behind me, Sarah hummed lightly. As I got ready for bed, I felt her eyes on me the whole time. When I finally looked her way, she had her signature grin plastered across her face.

"What?"

"I think Dennis likes you."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"He kept looking at you all evening. Not in a creepy way, but like he wanted to talk to you. And he literally jumped at the opportunity to talk to you alone." That wasn't the reason.

"Oh I don't think that's it. I probably reminded him of someone." It wasn't like talking about boys made me uncomfortable, but I had other things on my mind. "Hey Sarah, can I ask you something very personal?"

"Um, I guess so?"

"You said you probably couldn't understand, but you knew more than most. What did you mean by that?"

Her expression softened, showing a kindness deeper than I had ever seen on Lisa's face. "I used to have a pretty big family. My dad's company took off and both my mom and dad had always wanted a big family, and so now they could afford one. They had me, and then my little sister Emily, then the twins, Wyatt and Zachary, and then little Reggie. When he was six, Eli got pancreatic cancer. I don't know how much you know about the survival rate of that, but it's almost none. He would have needed a transplant, but there aren't a lot of donors who have small enough pancreases for a six year old. He passed away a week after his seventh birthday. I was 12."

"I'm really sorry. That must have been awful."

"Well, that wasn't everything, when gold morning hit, Wyatt lost an arm and one of his feet, Emily lost an eye, Zachary lost both his legs, and I lost my hearing entirely." She choked up at that moment, "but Mom, Mom was hit the worst out of all of us. She had a whole burned into her abdomen. When we got to a doctor they said she'd need no less than 7 transplants just to survive. It was Reggie all over again, but worse. They did all they could to keep her alive while Dad called everyone he knew, calling in every favor he had just to find one kidney donor. He didn't eat or sleep for days, and barely left his room. When he finally came out, he had a box full of tech. He said he triggered and has become known as the Tinker of prosthetics. He's made manufacturable models that don't break down as easily as his original products do, but a few of us still have the originals." She pulled her hair back to show a miniscule scar behind her ear.

"Oh, I never would have guessed."

"Yeah, which really got me curious. My dad's models have been on the market for about two years now, have you considered being fitted with one?"

"I… uh, don't think I can."

She took that as an answer, not pressing any farther in that direction. "So, did you want to talk to me about anything else? Maybe get some things off your chest?"

I considered it for a moment, wondering what I could and should divulge. If Sarah was supposed to be a friend, and so far she was the only one I had really made, then at some point (if I didn't want to make the same mistakes I had in Chicago) I was going to have to talk to her about it, even if I didn't tell all of it, or all of it at once. "My medical tattoo, it states that I should not be healed by a parahuman under any circumstances. Technically I don't think getting an adapted version of a tinkertech prosthetic counts, but I'm trying to cover all my bases."

"Oh! I had no idea! Why?" The question passed her lips before she even recognised it, and I could tell by her embarrassment that she wished to pull it back.

"Same reason I'm a refugee." I shrugged, trying my best to look nonchalant. Knowing how good I had been at hiding my emotions even before I triggered, I hoped it worked. By the look on Sarah's face, it seemed to have done well enough, at least.

"I guess that makes sense." And she left it at that.


End file.
